


Mirror, Mirror

by Liza_Mondragon



Category: The Two Princes (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Magic Mirrors, convenient plot-serving unexplained magical bs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24842710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liza_Mondragon/pseuds/Liza_Mondragon
Summary: The worst part of all of this, Amir thinks, is not even the fact that Rupert is dead.Only one prince makes it out of the Hollow alive, and Amir is left to pick up the pieces. Of all the places one would expect to find comfort, a version of a dead man from an alternate timeline is not one of them.
Relationships: Prince Amir & Prince Rupert (Two Princes Podcast), Prince Amir/Prince Rupert (Two Princes Podcast)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 62





	Mirror, Mirror

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Closure](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24093556) by [pickledragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickledragon/pseuds/pickledragon). 



> Written for The Phoenix Fanzine Issue #1: Far From Canon.
> 
> I am so honored to have been a part of this fanzine. Our editor-in-chief [Tam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinxOfTheFlamingHeart/pseuds/PrinxOfTheFlamingHeart) did an absolutely stellar job organizing and putting everything together!
> 
> Check out The Phoenix Fanzine [here](https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1TLpp0aCCh2AJBYJNWFclENah2pc3axa_?usp=sharing)! You can share it via [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/p/CBtS_1_pdLJ/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link) and [Tumblr](https://thecastleoftheheartland.tumblr.com/post/621560212593197056/issue-1-is-here) as well!

The worst part of all of this, Amir thinks, is not even the fact that Rupert is dead.

It is not the hollow victory of having quote-unquote “subdued the West”. It is not the angry looks and booing thrown at him by the mourning Westerners, nor the cheers and congratulations from his own people. It is not the fact that he does not have the courage to face Queen Lavinia, or look his own mother in the eyes.

It is not Rupert’s blood on his hands, not the nightmares he will have for the rest of his life, not the image of Rupert’s pained grimace that would forever be seared beneath his eyelids. It is not the overwhelming panic that shoots through him whenever he picks up a sword. It is not the space at his side that feels cold and empty, not the sarcastic remarks that he keeps expecting but never come.

It is not even the fact that Rupert is dead. Because as horrible as that might be, Amir had had the feeble comfort of knowing that it was unavoidable, that it was for a _reason_.

No, the worst part is the fact that Rupert is dead and it was all for _nothing_ , because the Forest had not vanished alongside him. The worst part is that both of their kingdoms are in danger, and the only person who might have been able to help him ~~get through this~~ find a solution is gone.

Why was the Forest still there? He must be missing _something_.

His mother had forced him to take a break, which is how he ended up here, pacing through the Eastern Castle’s halls.

He is pulled from his thoughts when he narrowly avoids walking into a pillar, and he realizes with a start that he doesn’t recognize this corridor. Though he has lived here all his life, there were a few parts of the castle that were off-limits to him as a child, and he has never been curious enough to investigate.

Torches that have not been lit in years line the walls, and there is not a servant in sight. He tries to retrace his steps, but the sun is setting fast and his surroundings are growing darker. He follows the light from a window, and finds himself in front of an unfamiliar door.

Oddly enough, it is unlocked.

He pushes it open and steps through, resisting the urge to sneeze at the dust in the air. The room itself is filled with assorted statues and bottles and trinkets that he cannot even begin to identify, though most prominent are an old fireplace (with matches on its mantel, which Amir promptly uses to light the room) and a large ornate mirror.

Some invisible force draws him towards it. It does not resemble any mirror he has ever seen before, its wooden frame covered with intricate designs and carved runes that he cannot decipher. _A window to another world,_ reads an inscription at the bottom of the mirror. Gingerly, he brushes his fingers over its fogged-over surface.

It immediately clears to reveal a reflection that is decidedly not his.

Instead, a man with red hair and familiar blue eyes stares back at him. He yanks his hand back and barely has time to process that the mirror is magic before the silence is broken.

“Amir?” says the stranger ( _not a stranger,_ his mind supplies unhelpfully), his voice choked. “Is that you?”

He doesn't respond.

(Idly, he wonders how a mirror could possibly transmit sound, but the thought is thoroughly drowned out by his internal screaming.)

It cannot be who he thinks it is. Because the man in the mirror is dead ( _thanks to him_ ). And yet those kind eyes ( _they were so dull and lifeless when he last saw them_ ) were looking right at him, holding some indecipherable emotion.

The only explanation is that this mirror is capable of piercing the veil between life and death. But wouldn’t that be too good to be true?

After what feels like hours but cannot have been longer than a few minutes, Amir remembers how to speak.

"...Rupert?" he says, throat dry. His hair is longer, and he looks older, but there is no mistaking who it is. There is a swooping feeling in his gut, joy and anxiety colliding. 

"Amir, you _absolute bloody idiot_.”

The stranger...no, _Rupert_ launches into a tirade that Amir undoubtedly deserves.

“What happened to not leaving each other behind?! We were supposed to be a team, but _no_ , you just have to go and be the hero! You know, for someone so smart, you can be _so unbelievably stupid_."

_He’s right._

A part of him tells him to say something, to defend himself, but that part is quickly shoved down. He deserves so much worse than Rupert yelling at him.

"I'm sorry." Rupert deserves so much more than apologies, but nothing he can do can ever make up for his failure, and he cannot think of anything else to say. "I'm so sorry."

He feels too tired to cry.

The other lets out a broken laugh. "Sorry doesn't change the fact that you went to face a dangerous sorceress by yourself. Sorry doesn't change the fact that you left all of us behind. Sorry doesn't change the fact that _I watched you die and I wasn't able to do anything about it!”_

It is almost embarrassing, how long it takes for his mind to register the actual words that Rupert is saying.

“What sorceress?” is the first thing that leaves his mouth.

This makes Rupert hesitate. The anger on his face makes way for confusion.

“Don’t you remember?”

“As far as I’m aware, I’m not dead. You are.” He might as well be dead. He feels so, so tired.

Rupert’s eyes widen as he appears to come to a realization. “You’re not my Amir…”

The way he says “my Amir” is filled with so much love and tenderness that it fills his chest with a longing for something he can never have. He does his best to ignore this.

Rupert has started muttering to himself, and if Amir were in a lighter state of mind, he might have described it as adorable.

“But I thought...it makes sense now, why he looks younger…maybe a divergent timeline...” 

He stops. “Amir, how did I die?”

“The Hollow of the Kings. I killed you.” He doesn’t elaborate. He’s told this story far too many times. This is all that is relevant, anyway.

“Oh. _Oh,_ Amir, I am so, so sorry,” he says, and Amir swears there is genuine sorrow in his voice.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You have every right to hate me.”

“Amir, I could _never_ hate you.”

“I _failed_ you.”

_I’m just as bad as my father._

Somehow, Rupert knows what he is thinking.

“You did it to _save our kingdoms_ , both of them. You are a man a hundred times better than your father was. I forgive you, and I know your Rupert did too.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Nope, you are _not_ doing that thing where you shut yourself down, Amir, _look me in the eyes._ ” His voice is so forceful that Amir does as he says.

“Amir. I don’t hate you. I love you more than life,” he states with firm sincerity, and something in Amir breaks. He doesn’t even realize he is crying until he feels the wetness on his cheeks. Rupert, mercifully, doesn’t comment.

“...you do?”

Rupert holds the back of his hand up to the mirror in response. A ring sits on his finger, sapphires glinting in the firelight. “I married you, _of course I do_.”

There is so much to unpack in that one statement that Amir has no idea where to start.

“But the Forest’s curse---”

“We broke it together, fifteen years ago. In my timeline, at least.”

“The prophecy stated only one kingdom would triumph.”

“Rule number one of prophecies: they’re never straightforward,” sighs Rupert. “We united East and West into one kingdom. _That_ was what broke the curse. Not a fight to the death, not one kingdom conquering the other.”

Oh.

“...it didn’t work.”

“What do you mean?”

“In this timeline. Our fathers sunk into the ground, and the Forest has stopped advancing, but it’s still here. You died and it was for _nothing_.”

“Well, that answers a question I never realized I had,” Rupert mutters.“Okay. You just need to do what we did. Unite the two kingdoms.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“Of course it’s not easy. Heck, it took a couple years for people here to accept the direction our kingdoms were taking, but we did it, together.”

“But you’re _not_ here, that’s the problem.”

“I’m not _just_ talking about me. You have more people on your side than you think. Porridge, our mothers, Lord Chamberlain, Joan, Cecily…trust in them.You don’t have to carry this alone. Don’t go off trying to save the world by yourself.”

 _Don’t go off doing what got my Amir killed,_ is the unspoken implication.

Amir nods.

“Start with an alliance. Get them to understand that it’s too late for fighting...”

The mirror starts fogging over. They exchange a look.

“Looks like our time is almost up,” says Rupert.

“But it’s only been---”

"I know. I wish we could’ve had more time together.”

“Me too.”

_Don’t go._

“Amir, I know you. You are one of the strongest people I know, and you’re going to be okay.”

“I’m...not sure I can believe that yet, but...thank you. And...for what it’s worth, so will you.”

“Go to bed, you dork, I know how grumpy you get when you're tired. You may be the Champion of the Eternal Flame but you’ll burn out if you don’t get some rest.”

“It’s Protector of the Sacred Flame, Champion of the Eternal Truth,” corrects Amir, heart much lighter.

Rupert smiles at him softly. “I know.”

The mirror fogs over once more.

**Author's Note:**

> As you may have guessed, Alternate!Rupert is from a timeline where the events of Season 2 happen much later, and end much worse.
> 
> I don't exactly have any answers for how and why the mirror works the way it does, but I do know that it was one of many magical artifacts that were seized from the Midlands when it was destroyed.


End file.
